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Chapter 169 - The first queen

The palace reeked of sex and incense. Every room, every velvet-draped hallway, every silken throne cushion now bore the scent of Allen's reign. What had once been a monument to beastkin history was now a temple of indulgence, a sanctuary of dripping worship where cries of devotion echoed through the walls at all hours. Servants didn't wear clothes anymore. Priestesses crawled instead of walked. Every corner of the capital had submitted to Allen's touch—but the city wasn't what stirred beneath him now.

It was the continent.

Rumors were no longer whispers. They had become gospel, carried by pilgrim sluts with ruined wombs and blessed smiles. And from far-off cities, across cracked deserts and mountain ranges, queens began to listen.

She arrived in silence.

No horns. No heralds. Just a single obsidian carriage with curtains drawn and glyphs pulsing softly beneath the wheels. Her guards didn't step down first. She didn't send envoys. She didn't kneel.

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